The Last Goodbye
by beaute-ephemere
Summary: Hermione Granger comes home to find a drunken Ron in her living room. He's been jealous for a while, but this time, he might go a little too far... I'm no good at summaries. Listen, it's really short - just give it a chance.


**A/N - House : Slytherin**

 **Category : Themed**

 **Prompt : Jealousy**

 **Word Count : 850**

.oOo.

When she comes home, he's waiting for her with bottle of Firewhiskey in hand. It's not the first time this had happened; she really should change the wards. Sighing, she sets down her purse at the entrance and turns on the lights.

Ron looks up. "Where have you been?" he asks, his tone accusatory.

"It's none of your business, Ronald," she replies tightly.

"You were out with _him_ again, weren't you?" he snarls.

"I already told you, it's none of your business," she cries, struggling to keep her voice even. Turning her back on him, she begins to walk towards her bedroom. "Just go home, Ron."

Ron laughs, following her into the other room. "Embarrassed about your little Death Eater chum, are you?"

Hermione rounds on him, eyes narrow and nostrils flaring. "He is _not_ a Death Eater! And he's not the one embarrassing me, you are!"

Ron opens his mouth to speak, but she silences him with a glare. "You have a problem, Ron," she says, gesturing to the mostly empty bottle in his hand.

"Oh, I'm the one with a problem?! That's rich, coming from you! I'm not the one friends with a bloody Malfoy!"

Hermione purses her lips. "His name is Draco. And he's my boyfriend, get it right."

Ron shakes his head, his eyes a little too wide and his hair a little too wild to appear perfectly sane. "You've gone mental, you have. Fraternising with-"

"Oh, grow up, Ronald!"

"No, 'Mione. _You_ need to grow up. I know that the war made us all want to go a little crazy celebrating, but it's time to settle down now. Time to come home," he sighs, each word more patronising than the last.

Hermione gives a short, mirthless laugh. "Home, Ronald? By that, you do mean the Burrow, don't you? _Your_ home. Not mine."

"You love the Burrow!"

"I did when I was twelve. I still do, I guess. But it's certainly not my home."

Ron runs his fingers through his long hair. "Fine, sweetheart. We'll get our own place." He moves closer to her, arms outstretched. "It'll be fine, you'll see."

Hermione bats his hands away. "Don't sweetheart me! There is no _we_ , there is no _our,_ Ron. When are you going to get it through your abnormally thick skull that I am with Draco, not you! He makes me happy, which is more than I can say for you these days. Stop embarrassing everyone and _go home._ "

"And they said you were bright! Don't you understand? He's using you, 'Mione! He'll get rid of you the second he finds someone better! But you and I? We were made for one another."

"I had a crush on you when I was _sixteen!_ We've been through this before. That doesn't mean I am in love with you now, nor that I owe you _anything!_ Now, get out of my house. Please."

She grips her wand underneath her robes. She's lost count of the amount of times they've had this exact conversation, and she wonders if this is the time she'll finally lose her cool. She's come close before, but he's really pushing her today. She resists the urge to lie down on her bed and pass out by telling herself she can hold on a little longer and hoping he'll get the hint and leave. He doesn't. He doesn't even notice.

"We're meant to be! You and some filthy, worthless little Death Eater could never work out, anyway."

She grips her wand so hard her knuckles turn white. "Get. Out. Of. My. House."

Frustrated, he throws his hands up in the air. "I'm trying to get you to see reason, Hermione."

She tries to count up to ten in her head to calm herself down, to stop herself from cursing him, but she doesn't even reach five before Ron pushes her against the wall, forcing his tongue into her mouth. She tries to push him off, struggling against him before she manages to cast a non-verbal _flipendo_ , sending Ron flying across the room.

She runs to the bathroom, trying to wash the taste of Firewhiskey from her mouth, trying to wash _him_ away. Ron gets to his feet and follows her.

"Didn't you feel the sparks, there, 'Mione?"

She looks ready to explode. "The sparks?! You just groped and assaulted me, Ronald! There were no _sparks._ "

Just as Hermione looks ready to literally murder him, she crumbles. She sinks to the floor, great sobs wracking her body. Ron tries to comfort her, but she looks up at him, her gaze steely through the tears.

"Don't touch me, Ronald Weasley. Don't _ever_ touch me again."

"I'm sorry, 'Mione," he whispers, realising he went too far.

She looks up at him, her gaze making it clear that his apology is not enough. "Just leave."

Ron obliges. He does, however, stop at the bathroom door and turn around one last time. "See you soon, right?"

Hermione looks up, a hint of a broken smile upon her face. "No, Ron. You went too far. This, Ronald Weasley, is goodbye."


End file.
